


That Don't Sound Like  You

by Tujima



Series: You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world... [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, after the waterfall scene, romancing Solas is painful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tujima/pseuds/Tujima
Summary: After I went through the Solas romance, I was upset that there wasn't a more emotional response for the part following the Inquisitor returning to Skyhold with a blank face (if that was what you chose to do). I decided to write up a little emotional angst because I'm hurting as much as Levallan is!





	That Don't Sound Like  You

Silence.

Absolute silence.

For weeks.

She’d come back from the waterfalls quiet, hiding her face from prying eyes, and hid herself away in her chambers. She didn’t answer the door when people knocked - not Josephine, Cullen, not even her children. He’d watched as tray after tray of food had been left outside her door by worried followers, trays that were left uneaten while people were speaking words of comfort through the thick wood, hoping to help.

Finally, Varric had had enough.

He moved away from his usual perch near the fireplace and went across the hall, gently taking the newest tray of food away from the worried Krem and nodding him away. He waited until the young man was walking through the open archway, back towards the tavern, before he took out a set of lock picks and popped the lock on the inquisitor’s door and slipped inside with the tray. Moving quietly, he climbed the winding stairs until he was standing near the open windows of the sprawling room. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the wreckage of her desk that was overflowing with unopened letters, books that were strewn across the floor, broken pots littering the carpet. Sighing, he looked towards the bed, where he found a thin form sitting with its’ back against the headboard, legs pulled up to her chest and face buried in her knees. “Boss?” he said softly, walking towards the bed, “Ashera?”

A slight movement from the still form, followed by a tired eye peering at him through snarled hair that was getting way too long from not keeping up with its’ management. He watched as recognition dawned in that eye before it re-buried itself in her knees. Shaking his head, Varric moved towards the bed and put the tray down on the bedside table before he sat down beside her. “You’ve been holed up in here for awhile…is there anything that you want to talk about?” he asked gently.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the question filling the room, until the thin elf took a great shuddering sigh and rubbed her face into her knees. “He said such pretty things, such kind words - he made me feel like I was home with my clan again…and then he just…stopped. One minute he was in love…then the next…he was leaving me…after everything we’ve been through,” she whispered into her pants, the sound of tears making it a bit difficult to hear.  “I guess I deserved it though…what man would want to be with me? I have such a huge responsibility - the Inquisitor…the hand of a goddess that I don’t even believe in…a mother and a widow and trying to help any stranger that sends me a raven…,” she continued, sniffling. “Maybe if I took a step back…stopped being the Inquisitor…maybe he’d come back?”

Varric tilted his head, arching a thick eyebrow, “What did he do….that doesn’t sound like you, Boss,” he murmured, “you’re a fighter. You’re a clever and strong woman - you don’t need a man to define you.” He reached out and rested a hand on the back of her head, taking less than a second to notice that her hair was actually long enough to slip through his fingers, before she turned her head and looked at him with sad eyes.

“Oh, sweet Andraste,” he whispered.

Her face was blank. The intricate swirls of black that had lined her face for as long as he’d known her, her June vallaslin, were gone. “What happened?” he asked gently as he moved his hand to brush a thumb across her bare, tan cheek.

“He said he loved me…he told me the truth about the vallaslin and said he could remove them if I wanted him to…I let him. He kissed me and said he loved me and then…then…,” she whimpered, tears filling her icy teal eyes and slipping down her face.

Moving carefully, Varric moved further onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she broke down across his lap and chest, her body wracked with sobs. He held her, rocked her gently and stroked her hair, letting her cry.

After what seemed like hours, she started to quiet down, letting herself be comforted by the dwarf that had grown to be one of her best friends in Skyhold. “You can leave him behind Ashera, you know that. You’re the woman that takes care of those that can’t take care of themselves; you’re devoted to your children, your clan, your friends, and your inquisition. They need you, we need you,  I need you,” he said gently, leaning back enough so that she was forced to look up at him, giving him the ability to smooth away her tears with his thumbs and give her a crooked smile, “So whoever this is that I’m holding, this tear-stained little thing that doesn’t know how to fight back with her wit or her daggers, you can leave her behind. This isn’t the woman I know.”

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but once they did, she sniffled and gave him a small smile, reaching up to rub away the wetness on her cheeks. “That’s my girl…now how about we take care of this crazy hair, hmn?”


End file.
